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“What’s up with him and Theo?” Helianth asked.
Moargan shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. I came here to watch a monkey getting claimed.” His eyes flicked to Daven. “I heard he’s a pretty one.”
Daven’s jaw tightened. “He’s not a monkey. And he’s not fit for questioning.”
Kylix’s nostrils flared. “I need to talk to him. It’s important—”
“Kylix.” The Imperial raised a hand. “We’ll handle this properly. Tell us what you’ve found.”
“Not enough. Yure is still cleaning the footage, but the route is clearer now. They never meant to keep the prisoners on Helion. They meant to sort them here, then move them off-world.”
A ripple moved through the room.
Moargan straightened. “So Helion was never the end point.”
“No. Just the stop.”
Kylix leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees. “The shuttle’s last signal placed it near Helion’s Breaking Storm.”
Moargan frowned. “That’s not a landing zone.”
“No,” Helianth said. “If it had gone into the Storm, none of them would’ve survived.”
Kylix’s mouth hardened. “Which means whoever took it knew exactly what they were doing. They were all listed as labor transfers from Düren.”
“Ouch. Düren. Horrible place to grow up.” Aviel yanked Theo’s throat back with a fist in his curls, making him squirm. “Right?”
“I don’t know,” Theo wheezed.
“You’re hurting him,” Daven snapped. Good Light, how he hated Aviel. The arrogant, unhinged prick was no blood, but he was still one of them, one of the rare gifted men Helion had pulled into the family orbit years ago.
“I’m not. Am I?” Aviel pulled Theo close, brushing his mouth over the shell of Theo’s ear.
Theo flushed, shaking his head as he looked down at his feet.
Aviel chuckled. “See?”
Helianth coughed. “Anyway, what we do know is that we’re not dealing with one but potentially two crime organizations, both now on Helion soil. Concordant and Attica.”
“Attica is Helion-born,” Kylix said. “They’re a rebel faction. Their whole purpose is to bring down the Imperial family.”
“Yeah, well, Yure is still trying to establish contact with Bekn. If Attica is truly involved, we’ll know soon enough what they want.”
“If they are involved?” Daven snorted, eyes still locked on Aviel. “Come on. All you have to do is ask his pet. Theo’s Bekn Zaid’s younger brother, and Bekn is the one running Attica.”
Theo let out a whimper. Something smelled like burned skin, and Daven felt a brief stab of guilt. That sick bastard might make him pay for it later. Still, he wouldn’t look away. Pride kept his chin up.
“That’s enough,” Milanov barked. “If things were easy, we would have solved them by now. But things are never as they seem, and there isn’t a more dangerous enemy than one who is unpredictable. So far, Attica has proved to be just that. Which means we need to support each other. Kylix, you will have your interrogation as soon as our patient is fit enough. When he is, Zimeon will give you the green light.”
“Is he eating?” Daven hadn’t heard Cyprian step into the room. Moargan’s consort lingered near the doorway, soft-eyed and careful as ever. “Ryneth, I mean. He looked frightened.”
Moargan’s consort was sweet and careful, but he’d found the one subject that could throw Daven off balance.
“He’s fine,” Daven lied. “He’s stable.”
Aviel’s mouth curved. “I heard he’s good-looking. If he’s half as pretty as this one, Daven, I might ask Milanov for a second pet.”
Something in Daven turned savage at the thought. His air flared and the oxygen between them vanished. A concussive wave slammed Aviel into the wall hard enough to rattle the sideboard.
